Lost in the History books by Kaira
Morrigan - Orange Room - Braithwaite Laboratory Cellpad (late 3004) The Orange Room is.. just that. An orange room, devoid of any other quality. The room is spherical in nature - no corners, no saying where a wall ends and a ceiling or floor begins. The room contains no visible exits, no windows. Ventilation is provided by the fact that the orange structure itself is made of tiny magnetic microparticles, designed for such a purpose.. to let certain things in.. light.. oxygen.. and prevent certain things from exiting.. such as sound and visibility. The orange room doubles as an interrogation chamber, and a visiting chamber, though it sees little use as the latter, due to tight restrictions on who may visit prisoners on Morrigan. A man dressed in a dusty blue labcoat crouched in the middle of the room, knees hugged to his chest, rocking too and fro on his heels. Many things pass through Ioseph Curwen's muddled mind, as he awaits his visitor, but the look on his face spells disappointment when she finally arrives. "First Class, Phi Chapter, Lieutenant Regan Bishop," she introduces herself dutifully, after the microparticles solidify behind her. Appraising her shortly, Ioseph waves her away, "You must have the wrong old fool. I know you not." The woman nods, releasing her salute, "We are strangers, sir, but it is you that I have come to see, Doctor Curwen." "Oh Where is my Helena?" mutters Ioseph, mournfully, perhaps obliviously "She should have been here by now. I would so love a visit. She knows I love visitors." The woman's eyes refocus down her nose, staring pointedly at Curwen, as he continued to rock back and forth in something resembling a fetal position. "Sir, your wife passed on some thirty years ago. Your actions as a result of her death is the reason you were incarcerated." Ioseph Curwen glances up at her briefly, "Is it so? I suppose it is.. don't mind my idle mutterings. I'm a man quite insane. I tell the guards as much all the time, but they never listen, do they?" He takes a moment to appraise the woman. Her uniform is a tailored fit, and in pristine condition. She holds a document with an official looking Sivadian seal upon it. Ioseph Curwen frowns at the document. "I see, whoever you are, you've no good news for me today." The woman nods again, "This is the official record documenting the known details of the death of Councilor Eliza Curwen." He bats his hand at it dismisively, "Rubbish then. You have my permission to tear it to shreds." The woman shakes her head, "Not an unnatural response, given that she was not only a daughter, but also a life project. Whether or not you are a criminal is irrelevant, you are the next of kin an-" Cutting her off, distraughtly, Curwen insists "A criminal you say? Is that what you see before you? Don't be absurd. This is not the maximum-security wing for dangerous offenders. The crime I committed was knowledge.. the crime I committed was perfection. A criminal has hope of release.. of reform. For me, neither are options. I am not kept here to repent, I am kept to be used and abused. This is not a prison, it is a factory. I am not a prisoner, I am a slave." She shrugs, "Braithwaite Laboratories doesn't exist, as far as the military is concerned. Its none of our business. Embryonix on the other hand-" "An obsolete company. Mention it not." cut in Ioseph, fidgeting absently. "An obsolete company which had been following highly illegal directives, under Eliza Curwen's supervision." Spitting, Curwen turns his back to her, "Its not enough to tell me she's dead, but now you must litter all over her good name with your lies? Have you really nothing better to do than torture a tired old man, with such nonsense?" "Someone has to hear it, since it will never be public knowledge.. there was an extensive amount of work done on a new specialist injection called "Paragon".. as near as we can tell, a very deft attempt at recreating the Legion virus. One might almost think she had access to Eddings' research.. he was a contemporary of yours, now, wasn't he." "I don't know any Eddings," muttered Curwen bitterly. "And the False Pandora project.. another one of yours, I believe. Her tests on Specialists were inconclusive, due to their diminished capacity to exercise free will. It is our belief that she used herself as a test subject.. which unfortunately lead to her undoing." "I'm tired.. I need a rest. Leave me, and take your fallacies with you." Pausing for a moment, to observe the old man, a smile creeps upon her face, "Dimitri Volstov is here, you know? Right here on Morrigan. You're going to be neighbours.. Do you suppose he knows you're still alive?" Ioseph Curwen blanched, all color draining from his face. His back-and-forth rocking ceased, as he rose into full standing position. The vague nature gone from his eyes, he now appraised the woman before him darkly, metamorphosing from a dazed mouse into a watchful shrew. "Who are you.. really?" he demanded in a quiet even voice. "A bearer of bad news," spoke the woman softly. "Its what I'm good for." Smirking, Curwen shook his head slightly, "Is my daughter truly dead?" The woman blinked, amused by Curwen's sudden transformation, "Officially she was abducted by extremists from Mars, interrogated and executed. Unofficially, who can say?" Curwen inquired hesitantly, "How about that Lieutenant Regan Bishop, is she dead?" "Oh, Quite." she grinned, cheshirely. Shaking his head bemusedly Curwen sighed, "The younger me was a fool.. thinking I could resurrect Helena. Elizabeth is.. was.. nothing like her. Oh, the genes were the same, and the appearance.. but passion.. personality.. can such things be cloned?" The bearer of bad news smirked, "You tell me. You're the expert." Ioseph frowned grimly, "It was a waste.. I created her out of a need.. which could never be met. Even if she was the same, I could never be with her. I sentenced myself to a life here.. and all Eliza ever wanted was to play god with Genetics.. not for love.. but just because she could. Helena wasn't like that at all." "Eliza was recreating the Legion virus, to play god with Specialists?" inquired the militarily attired woman thoughtfully. Curwen scoffed at her, "Recreating.. recreating.. nobody understands the Legion virus. She wasn't recreating it, she was perfecting it. Eliza, though faults she had, was not a killer. She knew the dangers of an imperfect virus. That’s what Eddings' research was about. He understood too late, the consequences of the work he called his own.. but the legion vius, like so many other things, was never truly our doing. The Kamir..the Hivers. They had their hands in it." "They're all dead now." "Are they though? Are they?," Ioseph grinned soberly, "Did you expect to get much useful information out of me, or are you just trying to figure out who else knows, before you terminate my life." "You are quite an observant fellow,” remarked the woman, “But your wife is gone. Your daughter is gone. Your existence consists of being a slave to Braithwaite Laboratories, and god only knows what horrors they have you creating. Do you really call that a ’life’?" "I'm too old to even care." Curwen stated, with a small laugh, "And if you kill me, Volstov will get to me, sooner or later." "A fate worse than death?" suggested the woman idly, observing her clear polished nails with a diligent gaze. "I only wish I could have seen my Helena one last time," Ioseph added somberly. "Maybe she's waiting for you on the other side?" added the woman helpfully. Shaking his head darkly, Ioseph pondered aloud, "I can't decide if you're supposed to be an angel or a devil." Using her thumb and finger on her left hand, the woman held her left eye open, "Little bit of column A.." and with the index finger of her right hand, rolled her eye downwards, revealing a small brown pill, which she dexterously removed. "Little bit of column B.." "You could have concealed it somewhere more appetizing," said Curwen, sourly. "Just be glad it’s not a suppository." remarked the woman blandly. “If I choose to resist?” “You could.”, the woman grinned childishly, “That would make my job much more fun. But the end result would be the same.” After a moment's further hesitation, Ioseph Curwen swallowed the pill. The woman smiled at him. "I don't mind. I've lived long enough." stated Curwen, resignedly. "Haven't we all?" smirked the woman. Since I'm gonna die anyway," suggested Curwen, "How about telling me your real name?" "Its Tacelyn. Thanks for asking," spoke the strange woman, with a curious smile. "Tacelyn... ah.. 'Silent', in the old tongue.. you’re hardly a proper Tacelyn. You talk too much." already Curwen could feel his head swimming. "Tacelyn my dear... won't you be in trouble, if you are still here when I'm dead?" "Oh, don't worry. That wasn't the pill that kills you." chimed Tacelyn. Curwen blinked at her, dazedly. "Whut...?" Tacelyn grinned a dark meaningful grin. "That was the pill that’s going to make you tell me everything you know about the Legion virus.” Ioseph dropped to his knees, trying to focus on one of the two Tacelyn’s which noew danced blearily before his eyes. “What’s your stake in all this?” he asked, weakly, his mind too muddled by the drug to make much sense of her answer. Reaching into the pocket of her military suit, she withdrew a small gold watch, flipped it open.. frowned at it, then flipped it closed again. “Just an interested party, with a little time to kill.” Category:OtherSpace Stories